Moments
by Teveau
Summary: A series of drabbles written with a prompt.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: ** Just a few drabbles written while taking a break from my thesis. They're all 100 words each. R&R, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p><strong>Tidings<strong>

"Good tidings we bring, to you and your kin!" Elena sings happily along with the radio, as she circles the tree again, Nate following after with a string of colored lights wrapped around his hand.

"Give me a little slack," she tells him, then bends over to adjust a stray light. "Good tidings for Christm—hey, where do you think this one should go?" Elena holds up a hideous miniature pinecone which just thoroughly sprinkled Elena, himself, and the cream-colored carpet with silver glitter.

For some reason, Nathan can't seem to wipe the ridiculous grin off of his face.

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><p><strong>Hold On<strong>

Elena grips his hand desperately. She's saying something to him, but in his semi-unconscious state, he can only see her lips move. He can hear her, but the words themselves aren't making any sense. He is so tired. Was there somewhere he was supposed to be? He can't remember.

In the driver's seat, Sully has his foot stomped down on the gas, pedal to the medal.

"Just hang on, Nate!" he calls.

His eyes begin to close, and then his cheek burns. Elena has slapped him. His eyes reopen, try to focus. Her words suddenly make sense.

"Hold on."

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><p><strong>Cake<strong>

It's Elena's birthday. Nathan had the bright idea this morning to get up and make her a birthday cake from scratch. Now, an hour and forty-seven minutes later, he can hardly turn the batter with his spatula. In fact, the spatula is standing up in the brown substance that vaguely resembles dark chocolate without any assistance whatsoever. He swears loudly, then attempts to add some water to the batter to try and loosen it.

The doorbell rings.

"Here ya go, kid," Sully hands him a store-bought cake.

Nate's entire body relaxes. "You're a lifesaver."

Sully shrugs. "Don't mention it."

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><p><strong>Chime<strong>

The night he leaves, Elena is standing out on the balcony. She absently turns her wedding ring with her thumb, listening to the wind chimes let her know the wind is picking up. A thunderstorm is headed their way, but she won't beg him to stay, stay at least until the storm clears. She won't beg him to stay at all.

Behind her through the sliding glass door, Nathan has grabbed his duffel. He cannot stay; cannot let this life of his harm her.

_Please, please, don't leave me_, she thinks. But the words can't seem to escape her lips.

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><p><strong>Dust<strong>

Elena is used to dust by now. Dusty old—ancient—library texts, dusty sarcophagi, dusty clothing, dusty tombs. What she's not used to is a thick layer of the stuff covering every square inch of her home when she unlocks the door. A thick bar of sunlight cast through an open spot in the blinds illuminates thousands of disrupted particles stirring in the air. Has it really been that long since she was last here? It feels so empty.

Then Nate springs the door open behind her, exhaling loudly. His presence stretches, fills the room. It no longer feels empty.

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><p><strong>Door<strong>

Nate checks the address scrawled on his hand before raising his fist to knock on the door. He hasn't seen her since the two parted ways at the airport in Key West several weeks ago. He said he'd keep in touch—after all, he still owes her a story. But for now, she said if he looked her up that she'd buy him a beer.

The door opens, and before he can do anything, her arms are around him, wrapping him in a hug. "Hey! It's good to see you!"

He hugs Elena back, saying, "Good to see you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Something Long Forgotten**

After Tibet, and the two are safely back on a layover in Dallas, Elena is half-expecting him to disappear again once he's seen that she is tucked away for the night at Sleepy-Snooze Inn. He rides the elevator up and walks her to her door. Elena murmurs goodnight.

She turns away quickly so that Nate won't see the disappointment on her face. Instead, he yanks her around, his lips sliding roughly against hers. Elena feels something deep within her, something long ago forgotten that smashes against the surface of her walls and shatters them like bone china.

**Handcuffs**

Elena knows the second he's come to rescue her. Villains don't suddenly begin flying in all directions and he doesn't come in with guns blazing like in the movies. Instead, she hears the slide of someone not having a tight enough grip on a rappelling cord, coming down way too fast, landing on his ass, and letting out a grouchy, "Oompf…dammit…"

Then, "Elena?"

"In here, Nate," she calls. "I'm handcuffed and blindfolded."

She swears, she can _hear_ the smirk in his voice when he lets out a simple, "Oh, really?"

Elena rolls her eyes. "Now is hardly the time."

**Sickness**

He's been tortured, shot, nearly drowned, almost eaten, and beaten within an inch of his life. Elena ponders this as she turns the saucepan on. All these things, and then the one thing that he acts like is going to actually kill him is a case of man flu?

Arms crossing, she sighs. The chicken noodle soup slowly comes to a boil. She pours it up into a bowl, grabs a spoon, and heads to their room.

He peels the covers down. "You made me soup?"

"Yeah."

He smiles weakly. "I love you."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles back.

**Scar**

Elena runs her hand down her side over the deep, long scar left there from shrapnel from that damned grenade. It is still raised, pink, and rough.

_So much for that bikini body I worked so hard for_, she thinks.

Nathan wanders into the bathroom behind her, shirtless, getting ready for bed. He catches her frowning, drops to his knees, and plants a kiss over the scar, running his fingers up the top of it. She shivers and wraps her fingers deep in his hair. They say nothing, but he worships her, scars and all, with all the words unsaid in flesh.

**Ring**

Nate's never been a foot-tapper. Until now, that is. He is not tapping because he impatient, but because he is nervous. He watches the jeweler give the ring one last cleansing swipe before placing it in its box, then handing it to him for examination. Nate looks down at the marquis diamond.

"What do you think?"

Sully leans his head to the side. "Not that one." He points to a small, plain silver band. "This one."

Nate leans down for a closer look. Simple, elegant. "It's perfect." His foot taps more.

"She's the one, kid," Sully tells him.

"I know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** A special thanks again to the people who have been so kind as taking the time to review these. I'm wrapping up the last bits of my rough draft of my thesis this weekend. I'll still have to revise it twice, but in the between, I may be taking suggestions for prompts for drabbles readers would like to see, so send me your ideas. Keep reading; I greatly appreciate and it gives me something to look forward to at the end of long, hard, headache-filled days.

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><p><strong>Shadows<strong>

Once the torch is lit, it casts long, bizarre shadows against the walls of the cavern. Elena watches them for a moment, growing increasingly anxious, and begins to step closer to Sully and Drake, who have the tattered map draped over the rotting coffin.

"Uh, guys…" she begins.

The men haven't heard her, deep in conversation. Elena watches as the shadows grow large, sprout pointy, long ears, and rows and rows of teeth.

"Guys…we need to move…_now!_" Elena yells.

The men look up.

"Oh, crap," Nate says.

He tosses the map to Sully, runs forward, and grabs Elena's hand.

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><p><strong>Drinking<strong>

Here he was, thinking she would be a lightweight, and then Elena just about drinks him under the damn table. She's giving him a close-mouthed, playful smile as she cradles the shot glass of tequila in her hand. She doesn't protest when he licks her neck, pours the salt, and licks it off again while she giggles. He downs the shot and grimaces before eagerly going for the lime slice waiting in her hand.

It's her turn. While she's wincing after pouring the shot down her throat, he quickly places the lime between his lips. She kisses him, no hesitation.

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><p><strong>Boxers<strong>

_What is it with her stealing my boxers?_ Nathan wonders.

They're way too big for her, anyway. She takes them out of his drawer and has to fold them down three or four times around her waist. Not that he complains about that part, really, because he likes looking at her legs.

She's wearing his boxers again this morning while she makes coffee.

"Mm…coffee," he rumbles, his just-woke-up voice low, before giving her a swat on the rear.

"Morning," she tells him. The boxers slip down a little more, and Nate decides he doesn't really mind her thievery after all.

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><p><strong>Lost<strong>

His ring—Drake's ring—is gone. Sitting on the plane, Elena leaning against him, asleep, he is alone in his thoughts. His wedding ring feels natural on his hand, and he looks down at it. A large part of him wants to know how Sully found it, or if the reason he lost it in the first place was because Sully had taken for safekeeping, knowing he would need it back someday.

His neck feels strange, like a ghost lingers there. It's lighter, though. Nate shifts ever so slightly, and Elena leans deeper into him. Traded for something better, indeed.

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><p><strong>Kiss<strong>

He kisses the way men are supposed to kiss. Elena's kissed men before who were nothing but lips or too much saliva. Nate kisses just right, his upper lip brushing hers, before she opens her mouth, allowing him to playfully nip her, then smoothing it over with his tongue. He'll kiss her jaw, then her neck, right below her ear and then again just above her collarbone, which drives her wild. He'll yank her towards him roughly, one hand on her hip, the other hand in her hair. Sometimes he whispers dark, lustful, delicious things. She whispers them right back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I just finished my master's degree today! Enjoy these drabbles. If you feel like leaving me a nice Valentine's Day present, drop me a quick line in my reviews section. That would be awesome. :)

**Forgiveness**

In the dead of night, somewhere in Elena's subconscious, she feels him stir beside her. It breaks her out of her slumber, and she rolls over to face him. He looks weary and relieved at the same time. He runs a thumb slowly down her face, tucking loose hair behind her ear, then slides his hand down to rest where her neck meets her shoulder

"Forgive me," Nate whispers. "I know I shouldn't ask you to, but please: _forgive me_."

She moves in close, wrapping her arms around him, and kisses him firmly and thoroughly. "You know I already did."

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><p><strong>Losing<strong>

It's no secret that Nate doesn't like losing. Sitting here in the living room floor, Elena has just played the word "tostada" for 81 points. All he has is "cop."

_ Nothing fair about this game, dammit_. He pouts, but plays his short, unhelpful word, winning himself 9 points.

Elena looks up, notices the sunken look on his face. She grins. Quickly, she arranges her tiles, finishes "cop" with "copulate."

He looks up at her. His lower lip pouts a teensy bit more, and he gives her puppy-dog eyes.

She rolls her eyes and laughs, but grabs his hand. "Come on."

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><p><strong>Ocean <strong>

Elena sits barefoot in the pale sand, watching the tide begin to creep closer as the sun steadily lowers its way to the blue at the end of the horizon. She curls her toes, relaxes them again. She hears the Jeep pull up, then the screen door slapping shut, and the barely-there slide of feet in sand coming to her. Without needing to look, she reaches up, and Nathan clasps her hand in his.

"Hey, hon. You said you wanted to talk about something?"

She pats the sand next to her, and he settles down, pulling her close.

"I'm pregnant."

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><p><strong>Jealous<strong>

He frowns darkly as he lags slightly behind Elena and Jeff. He keeps his eyes on them, searching for any sign that they might be more than just colleagues. Elena has her notebook out, flipping through some notes, walking along. She is seconds away from tripping over a pile of rubble. Nathan begins to say something to warn her, but Jeff has already taken hold of her elbow gently to guide her away.

_Damn you_, Nate thinks sourly, but to be honest, he is not entirely certain that it's aimed at Jeff as much as it is to himself.

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><p><strong>Misery<strong>

This is misery. Elena sits in the hotel in a cotton T-shirt, hands resting on her swollen belly. The fan blows on high, but its effects do little but move the hot air around the room. Why did they decide to come to Arizona in August? Some petroglyph in the middle of the desert Nathan wants to inspect. It seemed like a good idea at the time, no risk involved.

The door opens. Nate bursts in with three bags of ice. He kisses her, then kisses her tummy. "The manager says the air should be back on within the hour."


End file.
